Poker Face
by globalista
Summary: "Clarke, have you ever heard of strip poker?" (Bellarke)


Bellamy drummed his fingers on the tabletop. "Okay, so we'll shorten the shifts to three hours each, but everyone will take an extra one each week." He glanced at Clarke. "Anything else?"

"Nope." Clarke stood up and stretched. "I better get back to the dropship. Make sure nobody's died."

Her last word was eclipsed by a loud clap of thunder. Bellamy and Clarke both looked upwards, as if they could see the storm clouds through the ceiling of his tent.

Thinking she could still make it to the dropship, Clarke grabbed her pack. She pushed open the flap just as the rain began to fall in sheets, rhythmically smacking against the fabric. She groaned as she flicked water off her hand.

"It's fine, Clarke. Stay here until it passes," Bellamy said.

Clarke slumped back into her former seat and watched Bellamy as he went over the list of patrols. When he noticed her staring, he raised an eyebrow.

"Sorry," she mumbled, reaching into her pack for something to keep her occupied. Her fingers brushed against one of her finds in the bunker when she had searched for radio parts with Raven. She brought it out and set it on the table.

Bellamy looked up. "What's that?"

"It's a deck of cards. I don't really know any games, though. Wells and I used to play Go Fish." Clarke smiled fondly at the memory.

"I can teach you a few." Bellamy smirked. "Section 17 didn't exactly adhere to the 'no gambling' rule."

Clarke's eyes widened. "What did you bet?"

Bellamy shrugged. "Rations, favors – nothing serious."

She traced the edge of the deck with her fingertip. "Wanna play?"

He set aside the patrol list. "How about blackjack?"

"Sure. You'll have to teach me."

Bellamy took the deck from her hands and extracted the cards. "The goal of the game is to get your cards to add up to twenty-one. Each card is worth the number on it. Jacks, queens and kings are worth ten. Aces can be one or eleven."

"How many cards do you get?" Clarke asked, slightly mesmerized by the movements of his fingers as he began to shuffle.

"You start with two but you can add more." Bellamy dealt a king and a nine. "In this case, you have nineteen, so you should stay. If you get another card, you'd likely go over twenty-one."

"So I don't want to get more than twenty-one?" Clarke leaned over the table in interest and the neckline of her shirt drooped, exposing the tops of her breasts.

Bellamy cleared his throat. "Right. The person closest to twenty-one without going over wins."

He exchanged the nine for a three. "Now, if you only have thirteen, say, you can get another card by saying 'Hit me.' It's still a risk because you might go over, but you'd probably never win with such a low number."

Clarke watched as he dealt another card, a five. "And now the total is eighteen?"

"You got it. Ready to play?"

Clarke smiled. "Yeah. I'm going to win."

Bellamy chuckled. "Whatever you say, Princess." He dealt the cards, one face-down to each of them and the next face-up.

Clarke regarded her eight and peeked at her face-down four. "Uh, hit me," she said awkwardly.

He dealt her a ten. They both turned over their cards. He had twenty.

"You busted," he said as he pointed at her hand.

She frowned. "Again."

Bellamy complied, dealing her an ace and a seven. He watched as she licked her lips.

"Stay."

Bellamy dealt himself another card, a six. He turned over his hand – bust.

Clarke smiled triumphantly as she revealed hers. "I won!"

"Here." Bellamy handed her the deck. "You deal."

She shifted forward, once again giving him a nice view down her shirt. They continued playing until Bellamy knew all her tells – licking her lips, pushing her hair behind her ears, fiddling with her watch. He let her win most of the rounds.

Clarke was feeling confident in her newfound poker abilities when Bellamy stilled her hands, stopping her from dealing the next round. She looked up to find him with a lopsided smile.

"How about we play for something, Princess?" Bellamy said mischievously as the rain continued to drum against the top of the tent.

"I'm not giving you my berries."

He looked down at his hands, still covering hers, and back up. "Clarke, have you ever heard of strip poker?"

She pulled her hands away and gave him a dirty look. "No."

"No, you haven't heard of it?" he teased.

"No, I won't play with you."

Bellamy tilted his head. "C'mon; it'll be fun. And no one will ever know."

Clarke watched as he stretched his hands above his head, revealing a sliver of bare skin. He was baiting her, and she knew it.

"Fine, but we stop when I say so. Got it?"

Bellamy smiled wolfishly. "I'll deal."

Clarke won the first round and smirked as he took off his boots. Then she lost and had to take off hers. She won the third round and watched him peel off his socks.

"I don't know, Princess. Can you handle all of this?" He wiggled her toes at her.

Clarke laughed. "Shut up and give me the cards."

She lost the next three rounds, discarding her jacket, socks, and watch. (Bellamy argued that her watch didn't count but surrendered when she threatened to stop the game altogether.) Clarke frowned as she wondered when her earlier winning streak had worn off.

Bellamy, who wasn't wearing a jacket, lost the next round and lifted his shirt over his head. He heard Clarke inhale sharply and knew that he had made the right decision in busting on purpose. He needed her to want to keep playing once being naked became a real possibility.

Clarke twisted her fingers together and debated about whether to continue.

Bellamy tossed his shirt in the corner and smirked at her. "Too much for you?"

She narrowed her eyes, her resolve back in place. "Deal."

He flipped the cards onto the table in front of them, watching her carefully. She tucked her hair behind her ear. Bingo.

Clarke looked surprised and slightly terrified when she lost. She glanced at him and gulped.

"Clarke, you don't have to—" Bellamy started but she cut him off.

"No, I will. Just give me a second." She chewed on her bottom lip and finally ripped her shirt over her head in one quick motion.

Bellamy stared at the new skin exposed to his gaze, at once stunned and greedy for more.

Clarke picked up the cards, determined not to lose the next round. And she didn't.

Bellamy, distracted by the pale curves of her breasts as they disappeared into her bra, looked down at his losing hand in muted shock.

"Well played, Princess," he muttered as he stood up and shoved his pants down his legs.

Clarke gripped the edge of the table. Only his boxers remained, and they were flimsy enough to show the outline of his—

"Clarke?" Bellamy interrupted her train of thought. "Are you ready?"

She nodded and he dealt the cards. "Hit me," she said.

He flicked another card her way and said, "I'll stay."

"Me too."

She turned over her cards. Nineteen. He turned over his. Twenty.

Clarke scowled and debated whether to take off her bra or her pants. She decided on her bra, much to Bellamy's delight. It didn't really matter because she lost the next round, too.

Clarke discarded her pants and sat back down nervously. Both of them were in only their underwear.

"This is the last hand, Princess," Bellamy said as he dealt the cards. "One of us is going to be naked by the end of it." He smiled wickedly.

Clarke peeked at her cards and tried not to look too excited. Two queens. "Stay."

Bellamy gestured with an upturned palm. "Alright, let's see 'em."

She raised her eyebrows as she showed him the pair of cards.

"Twenty. Pretty good." Bellamy turned over his hand. "But not good enough."

Blackjack.

Clarke let out a little squeak and pressed her thighs together.

"Looks like I won." Bellamy seemed all too pleased with himself.

Clarke stared at him for a long moment. The smile dropped off his face as he watched her heaving chest. She shivered.

The rain almost drowned out the pounding in her ears as Clarke stood and walked toward where he was seated. She nudged his knees apart so that she could stand between them. Never breaking eye contact, she hooked her fingers in the sides of her panties and slid them down her legs.

Bellamy inhaled as they stared at each other. He reached up and ran his palm down her body, starting at the base of her throat and ending just below her navel.

"Princess, we really need to work on your poker face."


End file.
